


i will move your mountains

by secretlymartinfreeman



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Cutting, Depression, Gen, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, title from timshel by mumford and sons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:38:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretlymartinfreeman/pseuds/secretlymartinfreeman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You could have killed yourself."</p><p>Grantaire said nothing in response, looking down and swallowing hard.</p><p>Enjolras's mouth went dry.</p><p>"You were trying to?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	i will move your mountains

Enjolras stared in shock at the man standing on his doorstep. Upon hearing the desperate knock on his front door, he'd flung it open, not knowing who to expect at this time of night - certainly not a sobbing, bleeding, more than likely inebriated Grantaire. He frowned, lips parted in surprise, not sure what to do - though the first emotion to crash through the shock was concern, and that got him moving.

"Jesus, Grantaire," he said, taking the man by the shoulder and leading him inside. "What the hell happened to you?"

Grantaire said nothing as he was guided to Enjolras's couch. He looked helpless and small as he sank into the cushions, whimpers shuddering through his body.

"I-I cut too deep," he said finally, and it was then that Enjolras noticed where the blood was coming from. It ran thickly from deep slashes on Grantaire's arm, which looked pale and vulnerable curled against his chest. Enjolras sucked in a breath, beside him in seconds to inspect the torn appendage.

"Oh, my God, 'Taire," he whispered. "Why would you do this?"

Grantaire offered no answer, only looked at him with dull blue eyes, and Enjolras didn't expect one. He darted into the kichen to get a clean rag and rubbing alcohol.

"C'mere," he murmured gently, taking Grantaire's arm with a careful look at his drawn face to make sure he wasn't overstepping.

Pressing his lips together, Enjolras started to dab at the lacerations with the alcohol-doused rag, cleaning the blood away and putting pressure on the deeper cuts in an attempt to stop the scarlet liquid flowing from them. There were many old scars lining the inside of Grantaire's forearm, but no fresher cuts or scabs other than the ones that still welled with blood, as if he had stopped but relapsed tonight in a moment of weakness.

Enjolras felt sick. He'd had no idea that his friend had been going through this alone. And the fact that he'd felt desperate enough to come to him tonight. . .but what might have happened if he hadn't?

"Would you like to talk about it?" Enjolras said softly, not wanting to push anything on his fragile friend.

Grantaire sighed shakily, turning his head away from the blond's questioning eyes. "I thought I could stop," he said, his voice strained. "I thought I was stronger than this. . ." He seemed at a loss for words, like he was struggling to put what he was feeling into terms that Enjolras could understand. "But it's not getting any easier, _l'Ange_ ," he said finally, glancing back up.

"I wish you had gone to someone about this sooner," Enjolras said, studying his friend's face before looking down to peer at the self-inflicted wounds layering his arm. They were deep - so deep that it filled Enjolras with a sense of dread as a thought occurred to him, and he shuddered internally. "You could have killed yourself."

Grantaire said nothing in response, looking down and swallowing hard.

Enjolras's mouth went dry.

"You were trying to?" he breathed.

"Not-Not actively," Grantaire choked out, closing his eyes. "But I guess. . .at the time. . .I wouldn't have minded, if that were the result." He stopped to catch his breath. "I changed my mind, obviously." He glanced up again, almost shyly.

Enjolras nodded and glanced down to see that the bleeding had mostly stopped. Satisfied, he lifted his gaze again, holding contact with those blue eyes and offering a small, supportive smile. "I'm glad you did."

**Author's Note:**

> why would you leave kudos on this it's so bad
> 
> my blog: secretlymartinfreeman.tumblr.com


End file.
